Tide's Turn
by wildknees
Summary: It's been over a year since Loras arrived at Storm's End to squire for Renly and he's starting to realize that his feelings for his lord are more than friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to the sequel to my story Eyes Like The Sea! It's not necessary to read that one first but certain things will make more sense. This story picks up about a year after Eyes Like The Sea ends._

* * *

**"Tide's Turn"**  
**Chapter One**

The heavy rains in the Stormlands hindered the travels of the party from Storm's End and already it seemed that their arrival at King's Landing would be delayed. Traveling in this weather was a dreadful experience, with the high waters and sucking mud slowing the horses and carts while the rain damped the clothes and spirits of everyone involved. Pouring torrents of rain soaked them to the bone all through the day, and as night fell the rain only picked up stronger.

But though the heavy rain continued to beat down outside, it was warm and dry in the inn their party had stopped at for the night. A hot meal and a hot bath did wonders for forgetting the miseries of the day. The thunder still rolled but a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and Renly had even found a cyvasse board that now sat on the bed between them. He let out a defeated sigh as Loras' Dragon took his King, again.

"Why was it that you taught me to play this game again?" Loras goaded.

"You know why," Renly grumbled.

"Oh, I do. I just want to hear you say it."

"'To teach you how to lose gracefully'," Renly admitted, and Loras laughed. Despite his lack of experience, Loras had not yet lost a game, and he took great pleasure in rubbing it in Renly's face. Renly would play along, putting on an act of exasperation even though he cared little whether he won or lost, and they'd have great fun bickering and teasing each other over it.

Today it was not so. Renly did not carry on the playful banter, nor did he start rearranging the pieces so they could play another game. Instead he settled back against the pillows as if he was ready to turn in for the night.

"Do you want to play another game?" Loras asked him. It was not terribly late and Renly never refused a game of cyvasse, but he only shrugged.

"Not now," he answered.

He gazed out the dark window, watching the firelight play on the raindrops running down the panes. Loras did not like seeing such a far off, almost sad look on his face. It was not like Renly to be so down. "What's wrong?" Loras asked as he stretched out on the bed beside Renly.

Renly continued watching the glittering raindrops for a few moments, contemplating something, before he turned to Loras.

"It's only the rain," he said. "We're already behind in travelling. We might miss the first day of Robert's name day tournament."

Loras sighed, though by now he knew he should have not expected a straightforward answer from Renly about this. As of late he'd noticed that his lord was uncharacteristically morose, often fretting to himself or sitting alone with a brooding look, but every time Loras asked, Renly said it was nothing or gave some trivial reason, like the rain.

Renly put on a more cheerful smile, evidently looking to change to subject. "Will Garlan be coming to the tourney this year?" he asked.

Loras scoffed as he remembered the last letter Margaery had sent, detailing Garlan's ridiculous mooning behaviour as of late. "Garlan is _in love._ He doesn't care about being in a tournament if she's not there to show off to, so he won't be leaving Highgarden until she does."

Renly laughed. "Who's this lucky girl?"

"A daughter of one of our bannermen, so perhaps they'll be married." Loras smirked at the thought. Trust Garlan to fall in love with such a proper match. Loras could not recall having met the girl, but he could easily imagine a proper little lady who was a perfect complement to Garlan's good courtesy.

"And what of Willas? Is he not married yet?"

Loras shook his head. "Willas has the same problem that you do with marriage."

A startled look came to Renly's face and he laughed nervously. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Loras looked at him curiously for a moment. "Willas is the heir to Highgarden. He holds too high of a seat to marry for anything other than an alliance."

"Ah, that's true," Renly agreed, sounding oddly relieved for such a grim prospect. But then the weight of it caught up to him, and his shoulders seemed to sag. For this Loras could not blame him. Women fawned over Renly's good looks and charm, but with the prospect of none of that having any importance in finding a wife, Loras could see why the thought of marriage seemed unappealing.

"I don't want to get married," Renly confided eventually.

"I wouldn't either," Loras agreed.

"Do you, though? Do you want to have your own little Lady Tyrell?"

"No."

"No?"

Loras shook his head. "I'm joining the Kingsguard."

"That's not what I asked," Renly said, smirking.

"I'm joining the Kingsguard _eventually,_" Loras tried again.

It was still not true answer but it seemed to please Renly, and he grinned at Loras. "So you say, but for now you're still here with me!" Somehow the simple conversation had cheered him up considerably, and he shifted the cyvasse board to start rearranging the pieces again. "How about another game before bed?"


	2. Chapter 2

"**Tide's Turn"  
Chapter Two**

The sun finally peeked through the clouds again as the storms let up, though it was still a day behind schedule when the party from Storm's End arrived at King's Landing. It should have meant that they missed the first day of King Robert's name day tournament, but the heavy rains had not left the capital untouched. The plains outside the city gates looked more like a swamp than tourney grounds and would be unfit for sport for several days. The tournament was delayed as a result, leaving all the entrants and spectators who had traveled for the tournament spending more time in King's Landing than planned.

It was not a problem for most, but Loras could see that the prospect of an extended stay weighed on Renly. It was odd to think that Renly did not enjoy being in the capital. Surely the bustling court life appealed to him - Loras could easily picture Renly indulging in the parties and feasts, swanning about and winning over every lord and lady with his quick wit and charm, but something swayed him from King's Landing.

Maybe it was the size of the city, or the stink of it. Or maybe, most likely of all, it was spending too much time around the two brothers who Renly held little love for. From what Loras could tell, Renly did not mind Robert, but Robert grew surly with impatience at the tourney's delay, drinking heavily throughout the day and loudly complaining of wanting to hit someone. Meanwhile, everyone from Dorne to the Wall knew how charmless Stannis was, and Robert's increasing unruliness made Stannis grind his teeth so hard that it even gave Loras headache.

Faced with this, Renly disappeared the next day shortly after breaking his fast and did not return to the keep until long after the sun had set. Loras meant to ask where he'd gone when he saw Renly the next morning, but Renly slipped away again before Loras could say anything.

Loras occupied himself to pass the time, visiting with the bannermen of the Reach who had come for the tourney and practicing in the yard with the squires of the Red Keep, but he found the days lonely and boring without Renly. They spent so much time together in Storm's End that Loras had never realized how much he missed Renly when he wasn't there.

"Will you take me with you?" Loras asked on the third day before Renly could slip away again.

For some reason Loras expected Renly to say he was busy, or that he could not bring Loras where he was going, but instead he just grinned and told Loras to go saddle their horses.

First Renly took him to the Sept of Baelor, and then down the Street of Steel. They walked along the city walls to see the tourney grounds swarming with activity as servants rushed to and fro laying out cartfuls of dry dirt and erected the gallery. As evening fell, they bought fresh fruit and pastries to pass between them as they watched the sunset. The stars were out by the time they finally returned to the Red Keep and Loras fell asleep smiling after one of the most enjoyable days he could remember.

But the next day Renly disappeared again without explanation. It didn't bother Loras, not really, but he was relieved when word spread that the tourney grounds were ready and the tourney would finally begin the next day.

Renly had beautiful new armor made for the tournament, intricately carved plate painted the shade of green he liked the best. They'd agreed that Loras would help Renly with his armor but would not tend to him on the field, as it proved to be too much running back and forth while Loras was competing as well. Renly had resolved to perform better this year than last, anyway.

"Do you realize it's been almost a year since we became friends?" Renly commented as Loras finished fastening the buckles of his armor. Loras glanced up at him and smiled.

"It's been longer than that," he said.

"Officially, though. It's your name day tomorrow. That's one year, isn't it?"

Loras grinned. "Did you get me a name day present?"

"Of course not," Renly replied flippantly, making Loras grin wider.

"What is it? A sword? A shield?"

Renly shrugged with feigned innocence, though the unmistakable hint of a grin at the corners of his mouth gave away the lie. "I don't remember," he said.

"I could just go through your things and see for myself, you know."

Renly was not cowed by the threat and he smirked at Loras. "It's not with my things. It's with _your _things, waiting for you in your tent."

"I can have it a day early?" Loras asked, eyes widening in excitement.

"I thought you might want to wear it today." Renly straightened to test his armor, and, finding it suitable, he nodded at Loras. "Go and see, then. Don't let me keep you here with my reminiscing."

Despite what he said, Renly called for Loras again before he could leave the tent.

"I just wanted to say, well, thank you." Renly stepped closer and laid his hand on Loras' shoulder. "It's meant so much to have you here with me this past year. I hope we'll always be friends."

"Best friends," Loras assured him.

"Best friends," Renly agreed, "And more. I'm not sure how to say this…" He paused and rubbed at his neck. "It's no secret that I'm not close with my brothers. But you, you're like that brother I never had." He took Loras' hand in his own and smiled at him hopefully. "Do you agree? Do you think we're like real brothers?"

Loras didn't know quite how to respond. He knew he loved Renly dearly and yet it was not the same as what he felt for his own brothers, though he couldn't put his finger on where the difference lie.

"Yes," he said, despite his mixed feelings. It was worth it for the bright, true smile that lit up Renly's face.

"I'm glad. Truly, Loras, you mean so much to me. I've never had anybody like you."

Loras was embarrassed to feel a blush rising to his cheeks, even though he felt the same. Thankfully Renly did not let him suffer in embarrassment. He opened his arms and Loras stepped forward into the hug. It was never comfortable to hug someone who was dressed in full armor but Loras couldn't find anything to complain about.

Renly patted his back fondly and drew away from the hug. "Now hurry and go get your own armor on, and see what's waiting for you."

"Thank you, Renly." Loras was vaguely aware that his hands were still lingering at Renly's waist and it was hard to draw them away but Loras was eager to go see the gift that was waiting for him. With one more smile at Renly, he turned to leave the tent.

As he stepped outside, he bumped head-first into the person about to enter. Loras glanced up to find a man he didn't recognize peering at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

_Who are you?,_ Loras wanted to ask right back. The stranger was dressed in unornamented grey steel that bore no crest. His hair and beard were reddish-blonde, and despite that he appeared to be a man grown and of age with Renly, he was no taller than Loras.

"I'm Lord Renly's squire," Loras said instead. He immediately wished he had said something more offensive, as that answer made the suspicion disappear from the man's face and he smiled at Loras.

"Are you? I heard you'll be jousting today."

"Yes," Loras answered slowly, wondering how this man could have known him. Who was he? Renly had countless friends but this was someone Loras had never seen before.

"Maybe we'll face each other on the field," the man said. He gave Loras an amicable pat on the shoulder. "Good luck to you!"

And with that he stepped around Loras and entered Renly's pavilion.

Loras almost followed to tell him that he didn't need luck, but there was no time for that now. The entrants' parade before the royal gallery would begin shortly and Loras had little time to get into his armor. Grumbling, he sulked off to his own tent.

A page was waiting to armor him, though Loras was immediately drawn to the items laid out on the table. A new cloak with a matching helmet plume were draped next to each other. Both were made of snowy white wool, though they were nothing at all like the plain white of the Kingsguard. Every inch of the fabric was embroidered with flowers of blue and green, a bouquet of ceruleans and jades and teals.

Loras was grinning before he even knew it. He'd long been of the opinion that Renly's taste in armor and decoration was impeccable, even if his daily choice of clothing was too flamboyant, and this proved his good taste. (Renly insisted that his preferences were just as flamboyant in armor and in clothing, and that it was only that Loras' taste in armor was just as over the top, but Loras refused to believe it.)

Loras hurried the page through armoring him so that he could attach the plume and cloak and see how they looked. The weight of the fabric gave it such elegance as it draped over his shoulders, swaying behind him as he turned to admire himself in the looking glass. He could hardly look away from his reflection. It was a perfect gift, he thought, and he was immensely pleased that Renly had given it to him a day early.

He caught Renly's eye as they passed each other on the way to the field. He didn't have a chance to thank Renly then, though he was sure his grin showed well enough how much he appreciated the gift.

A herald called out each of the entrants' names as they paraded before the king and queen. Cheers went up as favorites were called, and it pleased Loras how loudly the crowd cheered for Renly. Even Loras' name brought a cheer – he'd not been to King's Landing since the king's last name day tournament, but it seemed his dazzling performance had not been forgotten.

Loras paid particular attention to the names as they moved down the line towards the knight who had been entering Renly's tent. He was Ser Oryn Shieldsmith, the son of some insignificant Riverlands lordling, and his banner displayed a yellow shield and hammer on a blue field. _How terribly original,_ Loras though derisively. Something about the knight got under his skin and the suspicion he cast upon Loras still bothered him.

It was the stallion that the Riverlands knight rode that truly drew Loras' attention. It had to be the most beautiful horse Loras had ever seen. Tall and powerful with a coat of the purest midnight black, he shone like polished steel in the sunlight and captivated the attentions of the crowd. Such a noble looking beast he was that the other mounts on the field looked like no more than plain work horses beside him. It was not right that he had such a plain rider, but even Oryn looked as tall and formidable as any other man while mounted on this stallion. Loras felt as if he would like nothing better than to knock him to the ground.

Renly's match was called first so Loras was able to stay and watch him joust. He had to admit that he was impressed. Renly didn't do overly well – he took two victories before being unhorsed in the third round, not that he stood much of a chance against Brynden Tully – but he clearly put in more effort than he had last year.

Loras, as well, was determined to do even better than he had last year. He'd finished one victory away from the semi-finals then. It was an amazing performance for a mere squire, but he was sure would get even further this time. He could already see the crowd's adoring faces as they watched him knock his final opponent to the ground (in his mind it was Jaime Lannister).

The first two rounds were as easy as they had been last year, with Loras barely needing to touch his opponents before they were crashing to the ground. The third round was harder fought and he shattered three lances against a lordling before taking the victory. The challenge left his heart thrumming with excitement and his blood pumping. The competition thickened as the unskilled were weeded out so the day only got better and better as it wore on. It was challenge like this that truly made Loras come alive.

But when he rode to the line to face his fourth opponent, any feelings of friendly competition evaporated as he looked across the field and saw that damned Oryn Shieldsmith.

They'd only exchanged a few words so Loras was not sure why he was so determined to beat the Riverlands knight, but there was no way Loras would lose this round.

On their first tilt, Loras poised himself to hit Oryn in just the right spot, but at the last second Oryn shifted aside. The lance barely grazed his shoulder, while Oryn's lance hit Loras' shield dead center with a powerful jolt. The lance shattered into splinters and Loras was barely able to keep his mount.

Loras was fuming with annoyance but he knew he had to keep calm and focused if he wanted to take this victory. Oryn could not win. Loras glanced scrutinously across the field at him. A squire passed a fresh lance up to Oryn but the horse shied, dancing away until the squire came around to the other side.

_Interesting,_ Loras thought. Beautiful or not, the horse was nervous on the field. Physically he was a perfect mount but he'd not been properly trained for jousting. The noise of the crowd unsettled him quite obviously, and a loud whistle for the commons made him stamp and twitch. On a horse so timid, Oryn could not be balanced in the saddle. _Interesting,_ Loras thought again.

He rode to the line and took the field when the horn was blown, gaining speed as he and Oryn neared one another. Oryn shifted again but Loras did the same, and he drove his lance up hard at just the right moment.

It went exactly as Loras planned. Oryn's shield split violently, pieces of it flying up into Oryn's face. The lance shattered as well but not before driving hard into Oryn's breastplate and ringing out loudly. In the fray and clangor, the stallion screamed and veered, heaving aside the already unbalanced Oryn. Loras was moving too quickly past to see, but he heard the crash of steel a second later and then the cheers of the crowd.

He was already grinning as he turned his horse at the end of the field, and a feeling of pure satisfaction overcame him when he turned to see Oryn lying in the dirt. The horse was nowhere in sight, having bolted far past the edge of the field. A squire was unsuccessfully trying to drag Oryn to his feet. Loras smirked to himself. He could not remember any victory tasting as sweet as this one.

It turned out to be Loras' last victory of the day. The freerider who had arrived at last year's tourney with no renown and then wowed everyone when he'd taken second place was Loras' next opponent, and after two tilts he drove his lance into Loras' shoulder with such masterful precision that Loras was sent crashing from the saddle.

Loras had gotten exactly this far in the last tournament. The next round would have been the semi-finals. It was disappointing - he'd not done any better than he had last year, but somehow the loss seemed to bother him less. All had had to do was recall the sight of Oryn lying in the dirt groaning, and he was happy enough even in defeat.

* * *

The feast that night saw the king in far better cheer than he had been all week. Jugglers and jesters entertained while the guests mingled, and the wine flowed liberally all the while. Loras steered clear of it. After his horrific experience in excess last year, he hadn't been able to touch the stuff.

Renly, though, was enjoying himself thoroughly. Loras was glad to see him in high spirits, and glad to have him back after so many days away. Loras served him at the high table and Renly would lean over to whisper private jokes as his wine was poured. Having Renly's attention before any of the guests made Loras feel proud in a way that he couldn't explain.

Once the knights and nobles left for the ballroom, Loras sat down with the other squires to take their meals together. Loras was something of a celebrity among them after his results on the field that day. The other squires were filled with endless compliments for his skill at riding, the fineness of his armor, how beautiful his horse was ("_but did you see that black stallion the Riverlands knight was riding…_"). Loras was sure he would never tire of this kind of endless praise, but somehow he was even happier when they left for the ballroom to rejoin the rest of the guests.

They entered mid-dance, music playing as couples spun on the dance floor. Renly, surprisingly partnerless, came over the moment he spotted Loras.

"These are dangerous waters," he told Loras. "At the _worst _of times, girls are tripping over each other to have a dance with you. Now that they've been watching you all day…" He paused and grinned. "If you don't watch yourself, you'll be betrothed three times over by the end of the night!"

"A plethora of dancing partners is nothing to complain about," Loras replied, grinning back. Renly was in the same type of 'danger'. Already the ladies were starting to circle in around the two of them, watching and waiting like hungry wolves. Loras wondered how to best choose a first partner without slighting the others. "And I can handle myself."

Renly raised an eyebrow and nudged him in the side. "They'd like to _handle _you too."

"_Renly!_" Loras laughed, shoving at his shoulder.

Renly dodged away and grinned. "I'm just saying."

"Saying _what?_" Loras asked. Was Renly really suggesting he should take one of the eager women to bed? It was a shock to hear Renly speak so frank and Loras had not thought him the type to indulge in such pleasures. In the time Loras had known him, there'd been no indication of Renly taking anyone to bed, whether it be highborn ladies, kitchen girls, or whores.

"That you should enjoy yourself," Renly answered, "Only that. You'll have fun tonight, right?"

It was a curious question, but Loras smiled and nodded. "I expect so."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it."

The song ended and Loras glanced over at the head of the hall. The performing singers were twins, a brother and sister with matching silver harps and voices that entwined as closely as crawling vines. An odd memory stirred inside Loras when he saw them, one that was not entirely pleasant.

"Not my first choice for singers, but they're enjoyable enough," Renly said when he noticed Loras watching them. "Have you heard them before?"

Loras nodded. "They were at Highgarden for a time, when I was a child."

Jon and Jeyne of Elsewhere, Loras recalled their names as. They had been younger then and now their long auburn hair was laced with grey, though they were both still beautiful. Their faces resembled each other so closely that Jon was more pretty than handsome, but side by side they made a captivating sight. Even as a child Loras had recognized their beauty, and Margaery had as well. Moments ago those games and fantasies had seemed ages ago, but suddenly they seemed as real as they had been when he was seven.

Renly was drawing him away, leading them nearer to the dance floor. "Perhaps it's a good thing you're familiar with the music, because you won't have a moment to compose yourself all night," he said, "Though it seems you've been spared from the difficulty of choosing a first partner – she's already chose herself."

Loras turned to find a pair of bright green eyes staring up at him eagerly. The small girl had pushed her way to the front of the crowd and she held her hand out to Loras expectantly.

Pushing the lingering ill memories aside, Loras assumed his easy courtesy and bent to kiss the girl's outstretched hand. "_My princess,_" he said deferently, and led her out to the dance floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**"Tide's Turn"**  
**Chapter Three**

Loras smiled as he examined his reflection in the mirror. Maybe it was just the glow of the morning sun, but he thought that he _looked_ older today, and felt it as well. Even his hair looked particularly good - it would be covered by a helmet shortly, but that had its own thrill. Last year he'd been refused from the melee because he was too small, but he'd grown taller and broader in the shoulders since then and there was no way the advisor could refuse him this year. After all, he was thirteen today.

Name day or not, he had his squire's duties to attend to first. He fetched some fresh water for Renly to wash and shave with and quietly entered the next room. It was no surprise to find Renly still abed, stretched out with his back to Loras and his sleep-tousled hair fanned out over the pillow. Loras smiled at the gentle sound of his snoring. Last night's ball had gone until the early hours of the morning and Renly had departed by then, but if his evening had been anything like Loras', there had been so many eager partners that he hadn't even had a chance to sit down between dances.

Loras set to tidying the room as he let Renly sleep. Last night's finery was scattered over the floor and not for the first time Loras was amused by how little care Renly seemed to have for his clothing. He could spend an hour picking out an outfit, and then toss it to the ground at the end of the day.

Loras picked up the fine garments one by one, laying them on top of Renly's trunk after they were folded. It was a familiar, mindless task and Loras hummed quietly to himself as he worked.

His humming trailed off as his hand brushed a rough fabric that was nothing like the fine materials Renly wore. Loras held up the garment to examine it. It was a blue and yellow quartered surcoat, not richly made and completely unfamiliar to Loras. He stared at the shield and hammer sigil as he tried to remember where he had seen it before.

A prickling sensation rose on the back of Loras' neck with the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. Unnerved, he glanced back at the bed.

It took a moment to recognize the face, but propped up on the bed and staring over Renly's bare shoulder was that damned Oryn Shieldsmith.

"Go on. I was enjoying the tune," the knight said with a grin.

Loras yelped and stumbled backwards, crashing into the wardrobe as he flailed. Renly was startled out of sleep by the noise and he let out a groggy groan. Yawning, he smiled for a moment and his hand reached out to caress Oryn's stomach. Finally his eyes fluttered open as he came fully into wakefulness and his gaze landed on Loras cowering against the wardrobe.

Immediately Renly bolted upright in bed. The furs were pulled tight around him but it was obvious that both he and Oryn were naked. In horror, Renly stared at Loras. His mouth moved but no words came out, until he shook himself violently.

"_Loras! _Ah, this, this isn't…" At a loss, Renly trailed off and desperately turned to Oryn for some assistance.

"… what it looks like?" Oryn offered with a shrug. "He's not stupid, Renly, I'm sure he knows it's exactly what it looks like."

Loras only gaped at the two of them. Never before in his life had he been too shocked to respond, but he found that no muscle in his body would move. Speechless, he stared at Renly, who was looking more and more panicked.

"Loras, don't - you mustn't - you _can't_ mention this to you understand?" Renly anxiously raked his hands through his hair. "Swear it to me," he insisted.

"I-I swear," Loras mumbled meekly.

Oryn was seemingly unaffected by the smothering discomfort in the room and merely rolled from the bed, naked and unashamed, and started retrieving his clothing. Loras let out an undignified squeak as he realized he was still clutching Oryn's surcoat, and he all but hurled it away from himself.

"_Truly,_ Loras, you need to mean it," Renly insisted.

"He means it, I'm sure," Oryn said. Now, thankfully wearing breeches, he laid a hand on Loras' shoulder. "You love your master, don't you? And it's your duty to protect to him."

Loras jerked away from Oryn's hand as if burned, though he had to step fully into the wardrobe to do so. "I swear," he answered to Renly.

The sigh that Renly let out might have been relief, but he looked no more comfortable than he had before. He ran his fingers through his hair again. "Loras, go fetch some water."

"I have already."

"Then - go mix the lather so I can have a shave."

Shaking, Loras started laying out the shaving tools and towels on the table near the window. He tried to ignore it as Oryn returned to the bed and sat next to Renly, but he could not help but focus in on every word they said.

"I thought you said you wouldn't stay the night," Renly said to Oryn.

"I didn't mean to," Oryn answered him, "You wore me out pretty well though." They both laughed at that.

The shaving brush was almost splintering in Loras' grip. His body felt furiously hot and icy cold all at once. He could barely resist the urge to storm over and punch Oryn for - for humiliating Renly like this.

"Stop worrying so much," Oryn was telling Renly now. He caught Renly's chin and drew him closer. "It's fine. He won't say anything. Now come here and-"

"It's ready," Loras growled.

Renly rose from the bed, taking the bedclothes with him to cover his nakedness. As he sat at the table and began brushing shaving lather onto his face, Loras realized he was left all but alone with Oryn. Storming off would be childish, he told himself, and would feel too much like defeat. He determinedly returned to picking up Renly's clothing and did his best to ignore the knight.

Of course Oryn didn't leave him alone. "Are you going to give me as much of a thumping in the melee as you did in the joust?" he asked in such a relaxed, conversational tone that Loras nearly punched him for it. "Pity, I hear your master won't be fighting alongside us."

"Well what's the point of it?" Renly said. He paused from gliding the blade over his jaw to glance back at the two of them. "There's no elegance or poise to a melee. Just a bunch of sweaty men grappling with each other and rolling around in the mud."

"Here I thought you'd be into that," Oryn teased. Renly laughed and Loras tensed up so tightly that he nearly ripped Renly's smallclothes in his hands.

"But there really is more to it than that," Oryn went on, "It's not quite the same as a true battle, not really, but the heat of the fight is the same. The thrill of it is like nothing else. If you've never done it before, you really should give it a try."

"Perhaps…" Renly said contemplatively.

Incredulous, Loras whirled around to stare at him. Renly _never_ fought in melees. Was he really considering it?

"You may enjoy it more than you expect. Go on, give it a chance."

Renly smiled. "Alright, then. I will."

The stupid knight was grinning back like Renly had already won the tournament. Loras wanted to punch him more than he ever had before.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you, though," Oryn said, and Loras privately thought the same.

* * *

It pleased Loras that Oryn was not of high enough standing to be feasted among the nobles in the high hall and had to return to the tourney grounds to cook for himself. Loras was feeling quite alone as well, though. He and Renly sat down together to break their fast but for once Renly barely spoke to Loras as they ate. He chatted and made jokes with seemingly everyone but his own squire. To look at him one would think that he was in the same good cheer as ever, and yet to the knowing eye the eerie silence between he and his squire was a sure sign that something had changed.

They rode to the tourney grounds in silence as well, and did not speak even as Loras began dressing Renly in his armor. Loras didn't feel much like talking, anyway. He couldn't meet Renly's eyes, couldn't even look at him. He barely let his fingers brush the padding beneath Renly's armor as he attached the metal fastenings.

"Um, Loras. Happy name day," Renly said at last.

"Not really," Loras grumbled.

Renly frowned and glanced away. "I'm sorry."

"It's - fine," Loras said. Over an hour had passed and yet Loras felt no less shaken than he had the moment he'd realized what Oryn was doing in Renly's bed. A thousand thoughts flew through his head and he couldn't make sense of any of them. His body felt so tight that he was sure he was going snap at any moment.

"Why did you agree?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

Whether Renly did not hear or just didn't understand wasn't clear, but Loras supposed it didn't matter. "Even before we left Storm's End, I asked you if you would fight in the melee, and you said no," he said as slowly and levelly as he could manage right now, "why did you agree?"

Catching on to the true meaning, Renly's frown deepened. "You mustn't think that," he insisted.

"Think what? Tell me, tell me what I'm thinking."

"That - that I didn't listen to you, or that what you think matters less to me. Truly, Loras, it's not that. You know how fickle I am sometimes. If you had asked me this morning, I would have agreed as well." Loras just grumbled in reply, and Renly sighed. "If it means that much to you, I won't fight today."

"I don't care what you do," Loras told him.

"Loras," Renly said, "Don't say that. Tell me you care."

He touched Loras' cheek to make their eyes meet, but Loras jerked away. He leapt to his feet and stormed away several paces before he forced himself to halt. His hands were shaking again and he just wanted to flee.

Renly sighed and Loras was sure he was anxiously running his fingers through his hair again. "I know you must think I'm disgusting-"

"I don't think you're disgusting!" Loras snapped.

"For lying with a man? Truly Loras, would you have been half this upset if it had been some fair young lady in bed with me?"

"No," Loras answered, but in truth he did not know. "But I don't think you're disgusting."

"I'm glad. I'm sorry you had to see that this morning, though. I'm sure it's obvious why I asked you not to tell anyone about - well, but it's not that that truly concerns me. It's what you think of me that matters the most. Everything I said yesterday is true - you are my best friend."

Loras stared at his boots in silence for a while, unsure of what to say or feel. "Renly..." He was still shaking. He clenched his hands into fists, then glanced back over his shoulder. "I don't care what you do. Just don't let me see, and don't talk to me about it ever again."

It looked completely agonizing to do, but Renly nodded in agreement and let Loras leave.

Loras felt sick as he walked to his own tent. Only once before had he seen Renly look that hurt and hopeless, and Loras had been the cause of it then too. It was much harder to bear now that they were friends. Loras had been so cruel and it was not even Renly's fault, but it had to be done. He'd made his decision long ago and would not go back on it now. Surely things would return to normal eventually, as soon as Loras got ahold of himself and was more steady on his feet again.

He felt even more sick and sad when he saw that next to his armor the pageboy had laid out the matching cloak and plume that Renly had given to him yesterday. Loras touched the white wool and ran his fingers over the fine embroidered flowers in every shade of blue and green. The garments would be destroyed if Loras wore them in the melee, and yet Loras did not want to leave them behind. He settled on detaching the plume and draping it around his neck to wear beneath his armor. Even if it would not be seen, he wanted to have it with him.

"Is that a favor?" the page asked innocently.

"_No!_" Loras almost yelped as he yanked it off and dropped it. It was _far_ from that. But the sight of it lying on the floor made him feel even worse. He picked it up and put it back on, then took it off and on again twice more before making himself leave it off. The page watched him oddly but didn't question it.

Loras forced any other thoughts from his mind as the start of the melee was quickly approaching. He chose a battleaxe as his weapon. His small frame meant that he lacked the power needed to do much damage with a blunted sword, while a hammer would be too heavy and ungainly. The axe was a perfect balance - it would give his swing enough force while still allowing him to keep his footing and move lightly.

He was annoyed to arrive at the field and find that Oryn had followed the same reasoning and chosen a battleaxe as well. Loras thought he was ridiculous, being a man grown and yet of height with a thirteen year old. Even if he was bearded and broad in the shoulders, it was still embarrassing. Oryn was just lucky it wasn't a mounted melee, for his craven excuse for a horse would have bolted off over the horizon before the first blow had been dealt. Even on foot he would not be safe - not if Loras could help it. He watched Oryn shrewdly as the contestants took their places on the field.

The ferocity of the first charge of the lines was like nothing Loras had experienced. One moment the air was still and silent but heavy with such energy that one could almost taste it; then the starter's horn blew and steel crashed all around, the thick of battle pressing in closer than anything.

Some men yielded early, either because they were unprepared to face the press of battle or because they were early targets of powerful fighters like the Mountain that Rides. The Mountain knocked two men unconscious within the first minute of the melee, and did it with such brutal strength that he seemed to barely notice hitting either of them. Crossing his path was not a wise choice while there were still so many other fighters on the field to wear him down, so Loras made sure to give him a wide berth.

Loras had watched melees before but not fought in them, and now he wondered how anything that looked like such a wild mess at a distance could feel so natural close up. Each move seemed to flow as easily as steps of a dance, less elegant but just as instinctual, and Loras quickly found himself carried away in the sway of it as the battle wore on.

A man twice his size yielded after two blows to the head grounded him. A knight who attempted to take up common cause with Loras suffered the same fate. They slipped from his mind the moment they were off the field, but there was one target that he could not forget.

Finally he spotted Oryn on the field. He'd wanted so badly to punch Oryn this morning, but now he could do worse. He could make Oryn yield, hurt him even, make him bleed. Loras' grip tightened on his axe as he drew near.

He almost growled in frustration when he realized that at the same time he was drawing nearer to Oryn, Oryn was drawing nearer to Renly. Loras was, however, pleased to see Renly holding his own so well. He'd chosen a warhammer as his weapon and his resemblance to King Robert in his days of conquering did not go unnoticed by the crowds. Nearby, the Mountain was pulverizing some poor hedge knight while Thoros of Myr was chasing down two men with his flaming swords, and even near such skilled fighters Renly did not look out of place on the field.

Renly laughed when he saw Oryn approaching. He swung at Oryn, though there was no real force in it and Oryn easily blocked the blow. In retaliation, Oryn thrust the blunted head of his axe into Renly's breastplate but it only knocked Renly back a step. Both of them were laughing now, testing each other's defenses rather than trying to make the other yield. It was a stupid thing to play like that and be enjoying themselves in the middle of the melee, and yet Loras knew that he and Renly would be doing the same thing if they came face to face on the field.

Two grappling knights crashed into Loras and he realized he'd been inattentive to the battle raging around him. Still, he could not bring himself to stop watching Renly and Oryn. He was getting a distinctly uneasy feeling about it, like he knew something bad was about to happen. Renly stood a head taller than Oryn, giving him the advantage of swinging from a difficult angle to block, even if he did not swing hard enough to hurt. Yet Oryn seemed fully aware of the unexpected advantages his own small stature could have. He lunged forward at Renly, ducking low and swinging his axe up in a high arc.

That was when it all went wrong. Renly had not moved his hammer to block, but kept it in a striking position. Too late he realized his mistake, and the attempt to change the angle meant that the block missed completely. Oryn's axe whirred past and struck him hard in the faceplate.

Stunned, Renly staggered backwards and straight into the line of a savage backswing from the Mountain.

The horrifying crunch of it was the only sound Loras could hear around him. His stomach dropped and time seemed to grind to a halt as Renly crumpled to the ground like a broken doll.

Loras was dashing towards him before he knew it, and he reached Renly's side at the same time Oryn did. Renly was not moving but was breathing heavily. Loras knelt at his side and lifted Renly's visor. His skin was chalk-white while his normally bright eyes were rolling in pain. Pieces of his pauldron had shattered and fallen away and his armor was dented and bent at an unnatural angle near the shoulder.

"Yield!" Oryn called for himself, abandoning the battle. Loras called yield as well, and right now he could not even feel annoyed that Oryn had thought to do so first.

"_My arm,_" Renly gasped.

"It's… don't move," Loras told him.

"Gods! Renly, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… that wasn't meant…" Oryn blathered. He'd lifted his visor to get a better look at Renly but did nothing else useful. Loras elbowed him out of the way to get closer to Renly.

"I - I can get up." Renly started to rise, cringing in pain, and Loras put a hand on his chest to push him back down. Just the slight attempt to move had made a cold sweat break out on Renly's brow. He lifted his good arm and caught Loras' hand on his chest. Even through both their gauntlets his grip was painfully tight, but it seemed to calm him slightly, so Loras held on to him.

"Gods! What do we do?" Oryn asked Loras.

"Shut up!" Loras snapped at him. He just needed to think. He looked over to the servants at the edge of the field. They were there for this purpose, to carry off and tend wounded fighters, but the continuing onslaught of the battle and the Mountain still fighting so closeby was making them hesitate to step onto the field. Loras would have stormed over and killed them for letting Renly suffer like this, but he could not leave Renly's side. He needed to get Renly off the field somehow, and without jostling his likely-broken arm.

Renly's eyes were now fluttering shut and his grip on Loras' hand was growing weaker. "I'm going to black out now," he gasped. Loras nodded at him, and Renly did just that.

"What do we _do?_" Oryn asked again.

Loras looked over at the knight, who was struck dumb in panic. This was Oryn's fault, all of it. He'd bedded Renly, injured him, and now done nothing useful despite Renly's desperate need of immediate help.

It was the absolute worst time for it, but Loras had reached his breaking point. With all the force he could muster, he drew his fist back and slammed it hard into Oryn's face.


	4. Chapter 4

"**Tide's Turn"  
Chapter Four**

The maester who examined Renly's arm was extra gentle with him, which probably had something to do with Loras looming over him like an angry mother bear. It had taken two blacksmiths to cut Renly's bent armor away from him and freeing his arm had not been easy - Loras' immediate reaction to hearing Renly cry out in such pain was his hand going to his dirk, and he barely managed to stop himself from slitting the throats of the men who were only trying to help Renly. Unsurprisingly, the maester kept one eye on Loras as he tended Renly.

Renly's arm was broken just above the elbow, it turned out. The master said it was good news. It was a clean break and in all likelihood it would fully heal, given time. He set the bone back in place and slathered it in comfrey that hardened to prevent the bone from shifting.

The Mountain had hit Renly so hard that Renly's breastplate dented when his arm snapped against it, and though Renly's ribs beneath weren't broken, they were bruised a deep, mottled purple. It left him in a very uncomfortable position - the tender bruising was in the place where his arm would rest against his side in a sling, so he was forced to spend much of his time lying in bed on his good side with his broken arm supported before him on a pillow.

More than anything it was Renly's injury on the field that made Loras get a hold on himself again. He couldn't bear the thought of Renly being not only in pain, but alone. Renly needed someone at his side, and that was all Loras needed to forget what he'd felt that morning in Renly's room and force this away from himself, again.

Well-wishers stopped by Renly's chambers over the following days and Renly was in good cheer, amusing and entertaining them even from bed. Loras stayed with him, sitting to the side while visitors were there and stretching out next to Renly while they were alone, as he'd often done before. They played cyvasse or told stories or just talked and laughed together. Both of them were calmer now. Things felt back to normal and Loras was grateful for it.

What Loras did _not_ like, however, was that Renly's most frequent visitor was Oryn Shieldsmith.

"You shouldn't let him in here. Not after what he did to you," Loras told Renly.

Renly smiled at him. "And just what did Oryn do to me?"

"He nearly killed you!"

"He apologized, and it was an accident. You know it was."

"He hit you in the face," Loras protested.

"So did you," Renly said, raising his eyebrow. There was a thin white scar above it from where Loras had accidentally struck him in the face with a wooden practice sword on the first day they met.

"That's different," Loras argued, "You _know_ me. Not like you know him."

"I didn't know you when you hit me. So should I have sent you back to Highgarden for it? I know Oryn better now than I knew you then, after all." Loras' scowl at being outreasoned made Renly grin. "In fact, there are certain ways in which I _know_ him better that I know you now," he joked.

The grin only lasted for a second before his face fell. "I'm sorry, I said I wouldn't talk about things like that."

"It's okay," Loras said. It had been a miserable few days and Renly had been morose for weeks before as well, so Loras was happy to hear his usual humor, even if he'd asked Renly not to mention these things. He just wanted to see Renly smile. "You can go on."

"No, I'll stop. I said I would."

"It's okay, Renly, really." Loras hated to think of it, but he did not like that there was this side of Renly that he didn't know anything about. He knew why Renly would keep it secret, why anyone would, but that did not stop his curiosity. "Was - was this where you were going those days before the tourney? To see him?" he asked.

Renly looked tentative but with Loras' encouragement he went on. "Not at first. I wasn't looking for anyone like him, anyway."

"But have you looked before?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

Loras turned away and started picking at a feather that was poking through the bedclothes. It was an odd thing to think about. "And when you... desire to be with a man, how do you find them?"

"It doesn't happen often, to be honest - not for me, anyway. But sometimes you just know. I met Oryn on one of the first evenings we were here. We got to chatting, and he invited me to his room. Somehow I knew exactly what he meant." Renly laughed. "You just know, I guess."

_You just know. _Loras didn't understand how that worked. "And... and are you two lovers now?"

It was a relief to hear Renly laugh at that.

"No, no, nothing like that. He's good fun to be around, but it would not work out. He lives in the Riverlands, besides. Perhaps if he returns to King's Landing I'll see him again, but we haven't made any plans for it."

"You'd travel up from Storm's End to see him?" Loras asked.

Renly looked puzzled for a moment, and then he bit his lip. "Ah, not exactly..."

Oryn chose that moment to arrive at Renly's room again. He'd brought a flower for Renly but thankfully didn't try to kiss him or anything. Loras did not even rise from Renly's bed. He stayed in place, right between the two of them, and silently glowered at Oryn.

"You're looking more lively today," Oryn said to Renly as he pulled a chair up to the bedside, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Renly answered, "The pain is not so bad now, but spending so much time doing nothing really starts to weigh on one." He smiled. "Good company certainly helps, though."

Oryn grinned back at him. "I hope I can make it more bearable for you, then."

Loras almost snorted at that. He could find a hundred unbearable things about Oryn, at least. How his beard did not fully disguise his ruddy cheeks, the way he slurred together the words in 'King's Landing', that he had a pimple - a _pimple_ - on his forehead. All this wasn't even taking into account his shoddy clothing and his useless horse. He was an altogether unbearable person.

The only thing Loras found remotely tolerable about Oryn was the bruising that had appeared around his eye. Oryn's helm had prevented Loras' fist from hitting him full in the face, but there was still a distinct purple outline where the knuckle of Loras' gauntlet had connected with his nose. Oryn did not mention the punch to Renly, which was disappointing. Loras wanted to take credit for a job well done, but Oryn probably excused his violent reaction the same way he excused his own useless panic.

Deep down, Loras knew that Renly's injury had been an accident. He'd watched the whole thing. The Mountain was the one to actually hit Renly, and yet Loras didn't blame him half as much. Something about Oryn just rubbed Loras the wrong way.

Renly healed well over the following days, but soon Oryn announced that he could extend his stay in King's Landing no longer and that he must return to the Riverlands. Loras tried to hide his smile, but not very hard. Renly seemed disappointed to hear it, though. He even asked Loras to leave the room so he and Oryn could say their goodbyes in private.

Loras listened at the door and he was not sure if he was relieved or annoyed that he couldn't make out the words they were saying. Thankfully it was not long before the door opened and Oryn stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm off now," he said, smiling politely. "It was nice meeting you, Loras. Here's hoping that we'll face each other again on the tourney field."

Loras did not move or speak, and only stared at Oryn in stormy silence.

Oryn's smile faltered. "You must know I didn't hurt him on purpose. I do care about him, whatever you believe. Now let's shake hands, and we'll part on good terms."

He extended his arm to Loras for a handshake. Loras crossed his arms across his chest.

"What makes you think I want to part on good terms?" he asked coolly.

Oryn's arm dropped back to his side and for the first time he glared back at Loras. "You've been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met. What is it? Is it because of my rank? Because I can't afford rich silks and finely crafted steel and horsemasters like you can? Or is it because you're in love with him yourself?"

Loras had a full supply of cruel retorts but they all flew out of his head at that last barb. His jaw hung open for several moments before his senses returned. "You don't know what you're talking about," he spat.

"Don't I?" Oryn spat back, "It's not hard to miss the way you stare at him all starry eyed and get jealous when someone else so much as looks at him. He's not yours alone, you know. So either man up and say something, or keep your nose out of it."

And with that, Oryn turned on his heel and strode off down the hallway.

It was with a shaking hand that Loras opened the door back into Renly's room. Renly frowned at him when he entered.

"Were you and Oryn arguing out there?" he asked.

"No," Loras lied. He crossed the room and nearly laid back down next to Renly, but then sat in the chair at the bedside instead.

"Alright..." Renly said. He clearly didn't believe Loras but wasn't about to press the issue. Loras met his eyes for a second but quickly looked away.

_Starry eyed_... Oryn didn't know what he was talking about.


End file.
